


Arly Wilcox And Will Kirkland Are Dead

by anekdot



Category: The March - E. L. Doctorow
Genre: Fusion, Gen, Rosencrantz And Guildenstern Are Dead - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-20
Updated: 2007-03-20
Packaged: 2017-10-30 02:45:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/326901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anekdot/pseuds/anekdot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rosencrantz and Guildenstern have nothing on the Civil War.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arly Wilcox And Will Kirkland Are Dead

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the future: We wrote this in 2007 and abandoned it that same year! But I hope it's somewhat enjoyable anyhow.

Two DAMN REBELS passing time in a place without any visible character.

They are poorly dressed -- their uniforms having totally deteriorated over time, not that they were that great to begin with. Each of them has a large leather money bag. Arly's bag is nearly full. Will's bag is nearly empty.

The run of tails is impossible, but Will doesn't look surprised, just sort of resigned to the inevitable. However, he is perky enough to want to know how Arly does it. Let this be his character note.

Arly is well alive to the oddity of it. He is not worried about the money, since he's winning, but the implications are weird as hell.

WILL: Tails. ... Tails. ... Tails. ... Tails.

ARLY: You sure are having a run of bad luck there, Will my boy.

WILL: I am aware, Arly.

ARLY: Not that you should be letting that sour you to the pleasure of games of chance.

WILL: Tails.

ARLY: This right here is God's phenomena, Willie. If ever you needed proof for your faith you have it here.

WILL: (eyeballs ARLY) Seventy-six to none.

ARLY: (pockets the latest the coin) The Lord's will be done.

WILL: Tails. ... Tails.

ARLY: It occurs to me, though, after some thought, that miracles of this kind don't happen for no reason.

WILL: Tails.

ARLY: Being as, of course, our Lord don't do pointless acts of charity.

WILL: Tails.

ARLY: So it seems to me as there must be some higher purpose for my becoming a rich man, Will.

WILL: Tails.

ARLY: You listening to me, Will?

WILL: Tails. ... Tails. (He looks up at ARLY, levelly). You bored yet?

ARLY: It's possible.

WILL: How're you doin' it, Arly?

ARLY: You ain't denying the natural wonders of God's earth, now, are you, Will?

WILL: Are these the actual natural wonders of God's earth, Arly? I didn't know.

ARLY: You are a very untrusting young man.

WILL: Seems reasonable, seeing as this ain't a trustworthy coin.

ARLY: Now, am I to believe you are accusing me of dishonesty?

WILL: May be. Only because you have my entire dishonest pay sitting there in front of your dishonest knees, mind you.

ARLY: (serenely) I don't fault you for not comprehending His intentions.

WILL: Arly, why in the name of the Lord are his intentions always 'make you real wealthy extremely fast'?

ARLY: On account of how there are great things in store for me, Will my boy. I am sorry if you can't see that.

WILL: Do these great things include me and my poor suffering wallet?

ARLY: Well, ain't I here to look out for your skin to, my boy?

WILL: That's so. (beat) Where are we here exactly?

ARLY: (looks around) That, Will, would be the smartest question you've put forth yet. Damned if I know.

WILL: (distant, puzzled) You hear reveille this morning?

ARLY: Not as I recall. (beat, rallying) Although as we are often between armies, that ain't such a cause for surprise. I suppose.

WILL: No. (beat. He takes out a coin from his own purse, spins it.) Tails. ... That is probably a new record.

ARLY: I would put money on it.

WILL: (sourly) I did put money on it and now it is all gone.

ARLY: It's gone to a bettter place.

WILL: Your purse is not a better place, Arly. It is covered with dirt and I ain't smelled something as bad since the last battlefield we was on.

ARLY: You could benefit from some positive thinking.

WILL: (tosses a coin. meaningfully) ... Tails.

ARLY: ... May be as we could do with some careful thought about this particular miracle.

WILL: What's the last battlefield as we were on?

ARLY: (beat) I don't recall.

WILL: What's the last thing as you do recall?

ARLY: ... There was a man. And we were reprieved.

WILL: You tole me to buck up and eat. I remember that part.

ARLY: Yes. And then there was a great to-do, and we were sworn into the army again.

WILL: ...(worried) Which army was it this time?

ARLY: I-- the CSA. (beat) As I recall.

WILL: As you recall. (He looks down at his uniform. Being a sort of indistinct brown it offers no clues.) I s'pose we could keep flipping coins.

ARLY: We've been flipping coins for awhile. ... How long have we been flipping coins?

WILL: I don't know. Since the muster, I expect.

ARLY: And how long ago was that?

WILL: (Pause while he works this one out.) As long ago as we have been flipping coins.

ARLY: And we have been flipping coins since muster. (beat) And where are we off to, Will?

WILL: To get shot at and prob'ly die, Arly. I should have thought that one was easy.

ARLY: You are an exceptionally melancholy young man, Will. Have I told you that?

WILL: You may have mentioned it in passing. (a brief pause) Do you hear--?

ARLY: -- yes. (listening) A wagon?

WILL: And a banjo. ... I expect it's our imagination.

ARLY: You, my boy, have no imagination. (pauses, then runs out towards the sound) Hallo!

WILL: They will be Union soldiers, and then we will be put in jail, Arly! (follows him at a sort of loping jog)

ARLY: (decisively) It would be somewhere.

WILL: (nervous humor) I don't believe there's anywhere at all but here. As far as I can decently recall it is all I have ever seen.

ARLY: You're talking nonsense, boy. You've got to come from somewhere, haven't you?

WILL: Oh? Where'd you come from, Arly? Anywhere in particular?

ARLY: Sure.

WILL: Particularly where?

ARLY: Son of the South, same as you.

WILL: The South is not particular, Arly. It let you come from it.

ARLY: I am sorely wounded, Willie, and that's the truth. And here's me, as has been looking after you like my own brother.

WILL: I have not had the pleasure of having a brother, so I cain't compare. (sounds is now quite audible.) -- I knew it was real all along!

ARLY: That'd be a sight nicer if we knew what 'it' was.

WILL: Well, here are it, anyhow...

Enter a man, WREDE SARTORIUS, in a Union Army medical cart, filled with usual supplies and surgical tools. In tow is DANIEL, a young boy.

WREDE: Stop! -- (joyously, insofar as he is capable) Injured soldiers! Don't move. A lucky thing we came along.

ARLY: For us?

WREDE: Of course. But to meet two gentlemen stragglers -- I grow rusty, and you catch me at the very point of decadence. By this time tomorrow I might have forgotten everything I had ever known. I'd be the same as any hacksaw in the army -- improvising.

ARLY: Surgeons, are you?

WREDE: I can amputate if that is what you require, and, times being what they are ... Otherwise, for the purpose of advancing medical knowledge I can tend your bruises, your welts, cure whatever ails you barring a cold or a neurosis -- and it doesn't take much to advance medical knowledge; even a bit of bread knows something about it, eh? (He bows, gently) Doctor Wrede Sartorius, at your command.

ARLY: Well, that's a new one, isn't it, Will?

WILL: (starry-eyed) We're soldiers, sir. From Tenness-- (a hushed conference with Arly) I mean Confeder-- I mean we're soldiers, sir.

WREDE: A pleasure. We've worked before generals, of course, but even enlisted men count for something. I recognized you at once--

WILL: And who are we?

WREDE: --as fellow students.

ARLY: I had the idea we were soldiers.

WREDE: For some of us it is as practitioners, others as object lessons. They are, as one might say, two sides of the same coin, or, seeing as it is such a very lean time, the same side of two coins. Don't leap to our assistance.

ARLY: But how can you help us?

WREDE: Why, you're living in a tragedy, sir. The human machine has broken down. Then we oil it, and get it working again, if we might, and with might many things are possible. With a little morphine we can transport you into silence and with a little caffeinated drink we can wake you up for the duration. We can do sutures, battle wounds, bruises, trepanning; we can do you tonics or astonishment or both-- particular at a price, but that comes under a department for which you will have to consult my assistant, Miss Emily Thompson.

WILL: Well, I don't know...

WREDE: It is of course free to have her nurse you, and little more if she requires bedrest of you, and times being what they are...

ARLY: (wryly) Which are?

WREDE: Indifferent.

WILL: (shocked) Bad?

WREDE: Wicked. Now what precisely is the trouble?

ARLY: We're lost.

WREDE: Not an ailment I usually treat, but I might have some equipment  
in the cart.

ARLY: (with some surprise) Really?

WREDE: It depends on where you're from, of course. I might be court-martialed for giving succor to the enemy in this barbarous land.

ARLY: More than understandable. (a short pause) And where are you from?

WREDE: Home. A rather long way. I'm a travelling man now. I take my chances where I can find them.

WILL: Chance, huh?

WREDE: Chance.

WILL: You found us.

WREDE: Well, yes.

WILL: You were looking?

WREDE: Well, no.

WILL: Chance.

WREDE: Or fate. If you're the superstitious kind.

ARLY: May be. So you'll help us?

WREDE: For a bit of bread I'll help you to fulfill the more human of your needs ... we have a fully stocked supply of that, or rather a single tonic, or rather Daniel. (over his shoulder) Come here, Daniel. And for a stew I won't insist on your timing.

ARLY: I think we're... sadly low on provisions. Ain't we, Willie?

WILL: Sad and solemn truth, sir.

ARLY: You heard the boy.

WREDE: You should have caught me in a better time. I was a purist then. On-ward!

WILL: (his voice has gone all high and squeaky; he has caught on) 'Scuse me!

WREDE: Yes?

WILL: You are not by way of being just a doctor, are you, sir?

WREDE: I live by the Hippocratic oath, my boy.

WILL: So you -- help folks out.

WREDE: As it were.

WILL: Jesus Christ!

ARLY: (to Will, in an undertone) There's no accounting for Yanks, Will. (at normal volume) Seeing as we can't seem to do much in the way of business, I think we'll be going on our way, if it's all the same to you, sir.

WILL: (holds up a finger) Do crazy people like bets, too?

DANIEL: Yessuh.

WREDE: I don't play games of chance--

WILL: (pulls out a coin, tosses it, steps on it) Double or quits.

DANIEL: Tails.

WILL: Oh. Again?

DANIEL: --Tails--

ARLY: I don't find myself feeling too well inclined to these odds, Will.

(WILL, with immense subtlety, sidles over to the coin and steps on it.)

WILL: Like a magic trick, see? Now you see it, now you don't.

ARLY: That's wonderful, Will.

WILL: (slightly desperate grin) I thought so.

WREDE: We don't have time for this, gentlemen. There's a war on. Daniel--

Arly: Wait! (brief hesitation) Can you tell us where we are?

WREDE: You're on a battlefield. Where else would you be? (and with a crack of the whip he's off)

ARLY bends to pick up the coin, and as he straightens, there is a certain change in the atmosphere.

SHERMAN comes running in, looking somewhat distressed, followed by GRANT.

GRANT has been planning and he holds a map in one hand. They are both mute. SHERMAN, with his shirt rent, no hat upon his head, his face contorted, pale as the letter covered with crossed-out words clutched in his left hand, his knees knocking each other -- and with a look so piteous and unmanly, he takes GRANT by the wrist and holds him hard, then falls to such perusal of the map as he would draw it ... At last with a little shaking of his arm and his head moving about he cries "Willy!", confusing WILL to no end, and falls on GRANT's manly shoulders. That done he lets GRANT go, and with his head over his shoulder turned, goes backwards, casting about for a drink. GRANT runs off in the opposite direction.

ARLY: ... Tell me I'm dreaming, Will.

WILL: You're dreaming, Arly.

ARLY: Thank you. I am very much relieved.

WILL: Let's--

(Enter Colonel Teack, attended.)

ARLY, acting on survival instinct, snaps to attention-- or as close to it as he can get.

TEACK: You! Federal soldiers! What company are you?

ARLY: I-- ah-- that is-- H? (rallying) H, sir!

TEACK: Your uniforms are damned messy. I should have you reprimanded. Well, go get the General, Privates. Find out what the hell he's gone about this time. I haven't got time to nursemaid a whole army. (pause) Well?

WILL: Was that ... Uncle Billy, sir?

TEACK: Why, don't you know him, boy? Now get on!

ARLY: (with a meaningful glance at WILL) Well, you heard him, let's get going.

WILL: Yessir!

(But TEACK, with a hassled air, wanders off first, in another direction entirely.)

WILL: This ain't the best idea out of all the ideas you has had, Arly.

ARLY: I am offended by your lack of faith in me, Willie. Don't you know as you has to see a plan through 'fore you go judging it?

WILL: I am not meant to be a Union soldier! I recall as I signed up and I swore proper to my side to defend and protect my home! If my mother could see me now she would as much as cry.

ARLY: I shouldn't worry too much; I'd imagine she's already resigned.

WILL: I remember when I knew what uniform I was wearing. When there was not any questions at all!

ARLY: Oh, there were always questions. It's just before someone else answered 'em. Let's go Will.

WILL: (dying fall) I want to go home. Which way did we come from?

ARLY: I-- well. (jerks a thumb behind him) Back that way, I suppose.

(WILL leans into his shoulder)

WILL: ... We don't owe anything to anyone, right?

ARLY: (considering) Could be. (beat) Prob'ly not you, though, unworldly as you are, Will.

WILL: I owe you something, Arly. I cannot decide if it is a punch in the nose or my life or if it tain't neither.

ARLY: Seeing as if it weren't for me you wouldn't be standing here to wonder, I'm inclined to say your life. But I ain't going to hold it against you.

WILL: So what do we do now?

ARLY: We could-- find the general.

WILL: He's gone crazy.

ARLY: That would appear to be the case, yes.

WILL: I hear tell crazy men know things. And if Gen'ral Sherman knows we are not Union boys?

ARLY: (decisively) Then he's crazy.


End file.
